For Forgetting
by Leanna
Summary: After a one night stand, Sirius reflects on why he sleeps with so many different girls. Implied SLASH. Remus & Sirius. Oneshot. Please RR!


**A/N:** Hey! Leanna, here. This story basically came from a conversation I had with one of my friends. She said she didn't think I could write a story with no dialogue, since most of my stories seem to consist of almost nothing but. Also, she didn't think I could write Sirius convincingly with someone other than Remus. So this is my answer to those allegations.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, Sirius would still be alive and Tonks would be a lesbian or something. (So, obviously, I don't.)

**Warning:** Contains SLASH. Well, actually it's implied, so I guess you could miss it, but only if you're a COMPLETE MORON.

**Rating:** M – For not too graphic sex, and implied slash.

You could think of this as a prequel to my other story 'Seventeen' if you like. Since this is kind of pre-slash, it might have happened around 6th year or so, before Remus and Sirius got together.

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He gazed out of the window into the darkness of the early morning, taking a long drag on his cigarette. The sliver of moonlight that fell through the window deepened the shadows that moved across his bare chest. He turned his gaze behind him for a moment, glancing around the small room that sat above his favorite pub in Hogsmeade. His eyes paused for a moment on the figure of a girl curled up sound asleep in the middle of the large bed. The sheets were strewn haphazardly about her and by the moonlight a slight sheen of sweat was visible on her forehead. The room smelled strongly of alcohol and sex.

He turned back to the window with a heavy sigh, thinking back to the events of the evening. It had all started when he had snuck out of Hogwarts with his three best friends, James, Peter, and Remus. _Oh God, Remus_. Seeing him snuggled up in a booth with that pretty ravenclaw had somehow given him a very strong urge to order another round of drinks. Every time they touched, another shot. Every time she whispered something into his ear and he gave her one of his rare smiles, a double. By the time the others were ready to head back, he had been completely smashed.

The girl who was now sleeping peacefully on the bed had assured his friends that she would take care of him. And, God, had she. He still didn't know her name. But then again, he hardly ever did. These girls weren't for remembering. They were for forgetting.

They had stumbled up to the room mere seconds after his friends had left, half undressed by the time they reached the door. The feel of her skin on his set him on fire. In his drunken state, her chocolate brown hair seemed shorter, lighter. He ran his hands through it as he kissed her roughly, pushing her up against the wall. She clung to his back, her nails digging into his flesh. He let out a low growl, burying himself inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to push her up against the wall. It wasn't long until she came, moaning softly into his ear. He didn't follow.

Instead, he had pulled out of her, throwing her onto the bed. She flailed for a moment, too drunk to get her balance. He took this advantage and flipped her over, forcing himself into a different opening in her body. She groaned as he entered her, moaning piteously, obviously unused to the experience. He ignored her, picking up his pace. He finally climaxed, with a scream loud enough to wake the whole village, if they hadn't thought to perform a hasty silencing charm.

He took another drag of his cigarette, still gazing out the window sullenly. He cringed slightly, thinking of whose name it had been that he screamed out during his orgasm. It certainly hadn't been hers. But that wasn't the only reason he cringed at the memory. He couldn't believe he had been so careless, that he had let _that_ name slip from his lips.

He knew the girl would be too drunk in the morning to remember that they had slept together, let alone whose name he had called her. But he would remember.

And that was his true curse. Nights like these were for forgetting. But he never could.

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And there you have it! Please review!

If you enjoyed this story, please check out my full length Remus/Sirius. It's called 'Seventeen'.


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